Starlight or Starbright
by Tangarine
Summary: If you were given a choice to go back and change your life, would you do it?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Rights to any of the story lines or characters of the TV show 'Gilmore Girls.'

_Star Light star bright,_

_The first star I see tonight,_

_I wish I may, I wish I might,_

_Have the wish I wish tonight._

Rory sits on the window seat, staring into the night sky. She was humming an old nursery rhyme her mom used to sing to her whenever they were under the night sky and the stars were twinkling.

Now it was just her. Her and twilight.

Beneath the stars lay her neighborhood, unkept, dangerous, gray and depressing. It was an indication of her life as it stood now, not as it once was.

With a sigh she folded her legs close to her body and witnessed a star falling gracefully through the darkness.

She made a simple wish.

That she could go back to one point in her life where things weren't terribly bad and steer it clear of the things that lay in her future.

Basically she wanted to change her life.

Though she wanted many things in her life.

To have her mom back.

To not have met her ex-husband.

To not have felt the urge to say she would go to Yale when Harvard was her dream. Why did she throw away her dream?

Even now she can't work out the why she had done it. Once she thought it was for obligations to her grandparents, but now it seemed almost like she had taken the road because it was the one of non-resistance rather then the right one.

With a heavy sigh she peers out of the old window and decides to get ready for bed.

When she was in the bathroom she got a shock when she sees herself in the mirror, as she does everyday.

This thirty year old woman who looked back at her, appearing every bit her age and more, she could see the bones in her face jutting out unflatteringly; she was gaunt and weary.

Where did her youth go? How was it that she had not noticed?

Sitting in her decaying apartment, the only one she could afford, she spent her weekend praying to a god she does not even know exists.

"You rang?"

A fat man was at the end of her bed looking at her curiously, his blond balding head glowing in the dull glow of her bedroom light.

She screamed and scrambled over to the other side of the room, grabbing the closest thing she could find as a weapon.

A broom.

With it she waved at him.

She did not over think the reason why he was in her room or how he had gotten in there unnoticed, she was too petrified to even think of thinking.

She was in her nightdress, and that was all she cared about.

The man looked at her with hilarity and slumped down his big body at the end of her safe, secure bed and lit a cigarette.

She watched him with amazement.

"Who are you?"

He blew out a ring of smoke and looked her over with little emotion playing on his fat slovenly face and grinned, showing not only how more unattractive he was, but also his yellow stained teeth.

"I'm your guardian angel, sweetcakes."

Rory waved at the door. "Take what you want and get out of here."

"Hey," he replied indignantly, obviously offended by her calling him a thief. "I'm only here because you asked."

The guy did this strange thing with his vocal cords and sounded very feminine and unsure, he sounded an awful lot like her.

"Oh please send my guardian angel down to take me back to one point in my life where things weren't terribly bad and steer me clear of the bad things that lay in my future," he stopped and pointed. "Is this not what you said?"

She was horrified.

This was indeed what she had said, but in her head. To the stars. Not to some slob who has got smokers breath and a gut so big it could form it's own country.

So she repeated. "Who are you?"

Seemingly bored with this line of questioning he lay out on her bed and used her bedside table mug as his ashtray.

"My name's Bob and I'm your guardian angel. Haven't been around too much on the account of you ignoring me but when you hit rock bottom, I couldn't resist."

He struggled.

It was only when Bob decided to rearrange his underwear that Rory noticed a couple of wings jutting out of his back. It was grotesque, and she felt the urge to be sick.

If he were her guardian angel, it would explain her crappy decisions.

"Hey lady. I don't make the decisions. You do. I just try and help."

She was mortified. Could he read her mind?

"Yep, plain as if you actually called me a fat slob to my face."

Rory felt herself redden and reached for her own packet of cigarettes. She had started smoking after her divorce from her asshole ex and now the thought of stopping seemed too painful to consider.

She lit one and leaned on the windowsill watching him.

"Why are you here? Am I going to die?"

Bob the fat angel sprawled out on her bed groaned. "I am here because you asked me here. You want to change some shit in your life, make it better right?"

Rory doesn't know where to take this, here was an ugly angel on her bed smoking, making strange bodily noises and speaks English so poorly that she had to lean in closer when he talked to work out what he was saying. He was supposed to help her?

"I guess."

"You guess? You pull my ass down from Heaven down to this Earth place so you can guess?"

If he was her guardian angel why was he so mean to her? Wasn't there a code of practice for these beings to follow? Didn't he even like her?

"Oh I like you girly. I just think you're a little on the stupid side."

"Thanks."

"What I mean is, you have had a magnitude of opportunities for a good life and you have purposely chose the complete opposite. Like you wanted this shitty life."

"I don't want this shitty life you prick. I haven't had these amazing opportunities you speak of."

"You have and you know it," he pointed his finger at her and scrutinized her face. "You wanna change some shit? Then I'm going to have to do something. Something you may not be all that comfortable with. I'm going to have to take you back."

She had no idea what he was talking about but she did not like the sound of that at all. Rory looked at his brown wings sticking out of his back and shivered.

"To where?"

"To the past. To some major life paths that you chose to ignore. Major decisions that would have effected the direction of your life, we are going to investigate the paths you did not take. Get my drift? We're going to change your past to find out your future."

Rory took another drag of her cigarette and threw the broom down.

She needed to sit down, and as Bob seemed harmless enough, she took a seat next to his animated feet.

Rory had a guardian angel.

His name was Bob.

He was a smart-ass who smoked and he was fat and ugly and didn't give a shit about her.

This was perfect.

"What did I ignore then?"

He thought about it for a moment then drank from the cup he was using as an ashtray.

She tried her hardest not to dyreach.

"We'll start when you're in your teens, we'll start with Tristan and work our way from there."

Rory was confused.

"Who?"

Bob appeared annoyed and slapped her across the back of the head and she yelped and slapped his face in retaliation. He enjoyed this and so she made a mental note not to do it again.

"Tristan! Tristan DuGrey from your highschool? Whatsamacallit? Tristan DuGrey, one of the major choices you chose not to take."

Rory thought back to school at Whatsamacallit, also known as Chilton and she remembered Tristan. But vaguely, it was a long time ago and he was only there for a couple of years with her. She remembered his blue eyes and his grin and the way he poked fun at her.

Oh how could she have forgotten him?

"Him? He was a choice?"

"Yup. If you wanna we can go back to the turning point of your life and see what would have happened if you didn't run out of the piano suit like a baby."

Rory thought back to the piano suit and suddenly felt a wave of what she felt back then. He was a choice? He was just a boy, and she knew many in her life. What made him so different?

"Well if you stop being so damn slow, we can go back and see."

She didn't like it that he can read her mind, there was no room for privacy.

"Do you think I like it either? I hear more insults in one hour then you hear in a lifetime," he groans and rolls to his feet, on the account of his rather large gut. "And you think you have problems."

He dangled his chubby hand at her and wiggled his fingers.

It was apparent that he wanted her to take them and for a reason that maybe life would be better with a fat angel then in her crappy little apartment, she took his hand.

And her life changed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Gilmore Girls, characters or storylines. I do not own the rights to any of theseason1dialogue used for this chapter.

Rory was standing in a room she recalled all too well. It was the piano suite of an old school acquaintance. She tried to remember her name, was it Matilda? Or Madeline? She didn't remember but it was her house anyway.

And it was definitely an M name.

She felt like she was in some demented movie, except this wasn't a movie with hot rods or burger joints or any other poignant memory of someone else's history. This was _her_ history and she was in her past.

She studied the room; this was a place she remembered, mainly because this was the place she escaped to when she found the Chilton hordes at the party too much.

A book sounded better to her at the time, and with it she carried it around everywhere. It was strange to her now. Like a strike of lightning she remembered.

She had forgotten.

Bob twisted around the room, she could see some food stains on his white wife beater and with a view found him undesirable to say the least.

He was oohing and ahing around the joint, like he never seen anything so magnificent. That's what it was like to people like them, extravagance that is. Their senses were alert and primal; they noticed everything and were engorged with delight.

The properties of families around the area were massive with wide tended gardens. The wide elm tree lined streets were sparingly scattered, with expensive houses just like this.

Everything was oak or mahogany. Nothing was gum or pine.

Hell of a difference between this and her laminated wood apartment, but she chose to rise above her pettiness and decided it _was_ a very pretty room.

"Oh look a piano." Bob pointed out like he had never seen anything like it, and made himself a bed on top of the instrument. He lit himself another cigarette and flopped on his back, his belly rising with every ragged intake of air.

"Oh how exciting." Rory replied with faux excitement. "So this is one of my life choices? I can hardly keep myself contained."

"Sarcasm will get you no where."

"I wasn't sarcastic, I was thoroughly overwrought with emotion," she said with a grin and took a seat at the end of the piano bench.

He blew smoke into her face. "I'll bet."

She heard the piano squeak with every movement and she looked at it wondering if his fat ass could fall through and destroy the beautiful instrument. "You shouldn't sit on the piano, you could break it."

"I don't weigh nothing sweet cakes. I'm an angel," he twisted again and more squeaking exploded from the weight.

He was so fat. With the way he was flaunting himself around the place she was sure he thought he was some kind of male model; denial was a dangerous thing. Especially for large musical instruments.

"Yeah, and I'm wonder woman. Get off the piano."

He shook his head, and grinned. She could see a lot of metal in his mouth from his wide-open grin.

Bob was missing a few screws she was sure of it.

He grinned at this mental comment. "Nope. I want to see the action from a box seat."

She saw a few boys walk past the door and gaze in and she hugged herself. She was still in her nightdress.

"Can anyone see me?"

"Nope. Your body ogling is for my eyes only."

She groaned and thought that was disgusting but hey at least she didn't have teenage boys ogling her goodies. The prospect of that happening was appealing to her as having root canal.

"Well good. I guess," she sat down and took the cigarette from Bob's stubby fingers and took a drag. "So what do we do now?"

That was the question wasn't it? What does she do now? She was here, in her past, something that should have been weird and scary, but it was oddly comforting. Like she could witness what a mess she had made of her life firsthand.

"Wait." Bob said thoroughly enjoying what he had in store.

She raised her eyebrows.

Wait for what exactly. To see herself turn into a blubbering idiot when a boy kisses her; that was always fun. She wished she had a camera for these special Kodak moments.

"Cynicism doesn't suit you."

"Neither does smoking but you don't see me stopping," she turned to him. "Why are you smoking anyway? I thought that sort of thing stops when you die."

He took another puff, like a portable chimney and let out a groan of comfort. He moved so he was flat on his back again.

"Mmmh, yeah well. Don't tell anyone."

She grinned and tapped her legs. Impatience was not exactly her forte but she was a quick learner.

"Oh lookie here! Who is that?" Bob announced with an over exaggerated surprise. She had to look, and on swivelling came to view a face she hadn't seen for close to fifteen years.

A blond boy in a nice red woollen jumper walked into the room, head down, hands stuffed into his pockets. And utterly adorable. For a sixteen year old. Any more thoughts about his appearance could land her into a lot of trouble, so she did her best to focus on his spiky hair and the sad look on his face.

"Tristan." Bob shouted into an oblivious boy's ear. "I was wondering when you were going to get your behind in here. People are waiting ya know."

Tristan sat down next to her at the piano and he was so close that she had to get up and tried not to panic.

"Why panic?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe because I'm sitting next to someone from fifteen years ago who looks exactly the same as I remember? Or maybe because I'm half-naked. Take your pick." Bob chose not to pick, he was watching Tristan's fingers on the keys with more interest then her shrieking and he clicked his tongue.

"Talented boy, don't ya think?"

Rory chose not to comment. She was too busy pacing the room feeling a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach that could turn to an anxiety attack at a whim if she wasn't careful.

She knew who would come in and she wasn't looking forward to it.

Coming face to face with your past was never an easy thing, but actually coming face to face with yourself from the past had to be a whole lot worse.

"Look at those fingers would ya." Bob said seeming to Rory to be more like a little devil then an angel.

Casting her gaze to Tristan's fingers and arms she felt a noise escape her throat. The only thing she could think was 'Wow'. He did have the nicest hands. Big and strong and oh boy she should not be thinking that.

It struck her as strange that she did not notice this when she was younger. Hands and arms were always her thing.

She dreamed about them.

She lusted after them. The contours of the muscles and the strength.

Bob was laughing.

She walked to him and pulled at the few puffs of hair that were on his balding head. "You're evil."

He laughed and slapped her hand away and straightened up his hair, like it was his pride and joy. Hopefully from the state of it, that was not the case.

Rory walked into the room. Not her now, the her from the past; the fifteen year old Rory. So innocent and sweet.

She fought the urge to run screeching from the room.

The sixteen year old Rory hovered at the door. Trying not to be vain or anything but she was such a pretty girl. So innocent and wide eyed.

Her blue eyes stood out like beacons and she was looking at the boy at the piano; she looked uncomfortable. Tristan looked uncomfortable. Present day Rory was uncomfortable. The only person in the room who didn't follow lead was Bob.

But that was to be expected.

_'Oh sorry.' _

_'No problem.'_

Rory was staring at her young self and at Tristan; they were so innocent. She wanted to grab her young self by her small shoulders and rattle some sense into her. Tell her that life was hard and she was going to have to build up strength in order to survive, but Bob looked at her and put his finger to his lips and shhhed her.

_'I'm sorry.'_

_'About what?'_

_'About you and Summer.'_

"Liar." Bob said loudly pointing at young Rory's head and poked it.

"Hey," she raised a finger to him like a sword and gave him the most vicious look she could conjure, which probably meant she had her mouth open and looked mentally impaired. "She's not a liar. Leave her alone."

She felt the need to defend her younger self from her manic guardian angel because she was in her position once before and disliked the though of a fat finger poking at her head.

He didn't seem overly wrought at her facial expression. In fact he kind of got a good giggle out of it. "She likes him. Look at her face all smoochy and crap. What's up with that if it's not love?"

"Well you tell me, cause you seem to think you know everything. Pluck something else from your you-know-what."

"That's very crass Rory. I'm liking it."

Rory sighed, missing some of the conversation and blew out some air. "Oh brother."

They focused back on the two teenagers.

_'What are you doing?'_

_'Talking about the test.'_

_'Why?'_

_'Because you said you didn't want to talk about Summer.'_

Bob snorted. "Very smooth. You had the touch once upon a time. No wonder you had so many glorious opportunities in your youth."

Rory glared at him. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing."

Oh right nothing. "You don't fool me. You think I've lost my touch don't you?"

He whistled and started looking around the ceiling like it held a wealth of knowledge that only he could decipher.

"I haven't lost anything."Rory mumbled and walked to the wall, leaning against it and started paying attention again to what was going on. "And how long do we have to wait for the change?"

"Patience Rory. It is a virtue you know."

"Like you would know."

_'He's...not my boyfriend anymore.' _She heard herself say.

"Not Dean. Not that guy! He used to crawl up under my skin, ya know?" Bob said with a mock shiver.

"No, I don't know." Rory said starting to really dislike this guy.

_'Idiot.' _

_'So's Summer.' _

_'You think you'll get back together?'_

Bob scowled and rubbed his belly in a Buddha motion, maybe he was trying to invoke good luck.

"Not in this freaking life. No way I'm letting that happen again."

She was trying to let all his comments slide but now he was just saying this stuff to lure her, and she was biting. "Hey shut up, this is my life you're talking about."

_'He was pretty set in his decision.' _

_'When did it happen? '_

_'Yesterday.' _

_'Wow.' _

"So how does this work anyway? What am I supposed to do?"

Bob looked at her, grinned his cheesy, yellow toothed grin and shrugged. "This is a different, what do you guys call it, dimension you could say. This Rory reacted differently to you. What happens now, you just watch and learn. This was all done before."

She humphed and waited.

It seemed to take forever. She didn't remember the conversation lasting this long before.

'_Well no, but you're sad.' _

_'Yeah well, I am sorry.' _

Huh she remembered _that_ apology. She savoured that apology for oh about ten seconds before someone went and spoiled it with a kiss. Rory couldn't believe how much was coming back to her. This was amazing. All those little holes in her memory were starting to get replenished; it was refreshing.

_'I accept your apology.' _

Tristan looked at the young Rory and gave her a lopsided smile. A melt your heart, I'm a sweet puppy dog, adopt me smile. _'Oh man, it's a great party huh?' _

_'Yeah not bad. It gave me a chance to catch up on my reading.'_

Bob clapped his hands with glee, his eyes twinkling at her. "You're going to love this Rory babe. Absolutely love this."

Hmm. She doubted that. Anything Bob loved she had an indication that it wasn't too good or liked by many other people.

_'You are very odd, you know that?' _

_'Thank you.' _

_'You're welcome.'_

This was the pinnacle moment of this little episode, Rory thought. The crying and running out of the room. She watches on as Tristan leans in for a kiss to the young Rory, her hair tied half up and looking pale and scared and she winced for him.

She kept on wincing and when she didn't hear anything in say the form of _No it's not you. It's just - I have to go _she opened her eyes

There she was lips locked with Tristan's, and she was enjoying it. Not that she hadn't; but she didn't seem to savour it as much as this young Rory was. "What the hell?"

"I know. Beautiful isn't it? I tried to help you but did you listen. Noooo."

They opened their eyes at the same time and she witnessed pretty innocent blue eyes meeting seductively cool blue. She was amazed.

Bob laughed out loudly and roughly and so hard that he fell of the piano onto the wooden floor tiles. Rory didn't bother helping him up. She was too busy staring gobsmacked at the two teens so into each other. How? When did this happen?

They answered for her.

"_Rory I have been wanting to do that since the first moment I saw you."_

The young Rory smiled so shyly, meekly, innocently that it was disgusting and stared back at him. It was a kind of stare that guys dream about. _'I'm glad.'_

She's glad? What kind of answer was that?

"Well a damn better one then the one you shrieked at him."

"Shut up."

"Are you ready to go now?"

"Where?"

"To the future of this reality. To your time except on this path. You're going to be impressed trust me."

Rory scowled and then shrugged. "Eh, I don't know about trust but I guess I am somewhat curious."

"You little cat you." Bob grabbed her hand and they did the shimmering thing again. They left little Rory and Tristan in the Piano room, locked in a kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the right to Gilmore Girls or characters.

Rory was warm and covered in a thick quilt when she awoke. Not realizing she had slept until she heard a noise next to her blare with the sounds of cheesy radio station that she was addicted too.

It was a radio alarm clock and the snooze button was all too easy to hit. But she couldn't.

She panicked.

The first thing that popped in her mind in seeing that little gray button was who's little gray button of that radio alarm clock did that belong too, and why was she staring at it from the bed?

Why was she in bed? She wasn't even tired.

There are times in her life when she would become too scared to move. One was when she thought there was a ghost lurking around her making strange noises in the middle of the night dragging their leg and moaning, another was hearing someone making strange noises outside her apartment that sounded like opening off doors, windows etc. The one other important one is finding out she's in a strange bed and not knowing how she got there.

The third thing she had never experienced until that moment and she can honestly say she preferred the limping ghost.

So she held the covers to her face and tried not to hyperventilate. Her eyes scanned the room greedily, looking for some sign of something. The room was large, white walls, dark trimmings, and dark wooden floorboards holding sparsely furnishing, very nice in an executive sort of way. There were no clues as to whose place this was or why she was there.

Then she saw something horrifying.

Bob.

Standing at the other side of the room, the blubber on his arms giggling with every wave he gave her, in which there were many, and he was conducting this very strange winking thing, scaring her even more then she already was.

Almost in an instant the events of their trippy adventure hit her. She buried her head under the covers and stared into the muted light.

She felt now was a good time to hyperventilate. Conveniently she forgotten was their little adventure. How it was possible, she didn't know; but it was like she had taken some pills that made pixies dance in the moonlight and fairies fix her hair.

It wasn't normal.

From nowhere, or rather from right beside her a hand snaked from the other side of the covers and hit the snooze button. Well not really hit, more like smash.

She froze and let out a whimper. Rory knew she was a borderline coward but in times of trials and tribulations there was nothing she could do other then understand this and embrace it.

The hand, not content with damaging the property next to her head, had an urge to slide under the covers, and making a home around her waist.

She looked at the hand and blew out some air and looked to the heavens. Tact was what she needed in this instance. It was a shame she didn't possess too much at that particular time.

Rory wiggled; she squirmed; she did everything possible to get out of the grasp except jump out of the bed and run.

The guy though had a firm grip on her. Turning so she could tell him he could find a better thing to do with his hands, she saw a very nice looking man in his late twenties. Blond, blue eyes, rough but smooth at the same time.

Rory thought it was awfully strange how much he looked like Tristan. A boy she remembered visiting in her trip with Bob who still happened to still be standing in the room. Not helping.

She couldn't see her so called angel being that she was too busy staring at the guy, mouth hung open, but she knew he was probably enjoying ever second of this.

The man smiled at her and kissed her.

At that moment, she knew it was Tristan.

Now Rory couldn't _stop_ herself from jumping out of the bed. It was a natural reaction. She didn't know this person. Not well not enough to be seen in bed with him and especially when the last time she saw him he was being kicked off to some Military School for rummaging through a safe with some buddies.

"Wow. That was the quickest I've seen you get out of bed for years. What's the rush?" He had a glint in his eyes that she did not like. It was too much like her ex's to know what it meant.

Throwing him a glare she didn't say anything. He put his hands behind his head and watched her.

She was wearing a white singlet top and panties so she did the best she could with trying to cover her body, crossing her arms over herself and edging into a door. Hoping it was a bathroom and not a storage cupboard. This room was not hers, so obviously that was a strong possibility.

Tristan watched on with a strange confused smile on his face but despite her panic didn't take her eyes off him. Even while she made a ridiculous motion towards the safety of a small room with a lock.

But before she even got to the point of locking the door she grabbed Bob by the end of his dirty wifebeater and dragged him in with her.

"Bob what the hell is going on here?" She shrieked at him as she locked the door and tested it for its durability.

The fat angel raised his hands in a motion that perfectly described why she knew asking that question was pointless. Rory put the seat of the toilet down, sat, leaned over, and stuck her head into her hands.

Bob's belly moved to the rhythm of his loud chortles of laughter. Kicking his fat bum was what she wanted to do at the moment, and the nearness and the width of him made it more then possible.

This made him stop laughing and he edged into a corner of the room. "Don't even think about it Sweet Cakes. This butt ain't for kicking."

"So are you going to explain then or am I going to have to test these groovy painted toenails on you?" Apedicure; she hadn't had a pedicure in years and she instantly found she disliked this Rory who could actually afford this little luxury.

Her form of luxury was a take-out once a month. And it was usually chips, and everyone knew what that meant. The term 'Cheap as Chips' was not used for the hell of it.

"What you thinks going on? It's you, okay so yeah maybe with bit of history difference, as in you're getting married in two days and it's to that guy in your bed."

She stared at him.

"No way."

"Yes way, sweet heart."

"No more 'Sweet' anything. Tell me how long before I can go?"

He turned to the mirror and pulled out a comb, smoothing the little strands of his hair comb-over that he must have been growing for a good two years.

She pushed his leg with her toe. "Hello?"

"Hold your horses. You're here for like maybe a week."

"What?" That meant the marrying thing she would have to do for her alter Rory, and since she had already did that little number and believed it to be bad, she wasn't too thrilled with this idea.

"I mean you can't experience anything in one or two days can ya? You have to delve a little deeper, get a bit more insight. You know?"

She lunged at him, wrapping her hands around his neck and wrestled with him as he staggered around the room, trying to breathe.

He bumped her into the wall and tried to wiggle out of the death grip she had on his neck. She was on top of his vile wings but she didn't care.

Violence was the only thing that flashed in her logical head.

"All right," he managed to wheeze out and she was going to let go, but there was a knock on the bathroom door and both her and Bob turned to look at it.

Together, Bob on his feet, Rory on his back stopped and remained frozen and quiet.

They watched as the door handle turned, trying to be opened. She jumped off her angel's back and pointed at him. "Don't you go anywhere. We are going to be having a word."

He fixed his shirt, his face red with exertion. "That was a serious demerit point. Don't ya know you don't attack angels?"

She huffed and opened the door to this alter Rory's fiancée and found that he was now more then curious; he was concerned. He brushed past her and ran his hands through his hair, still short and spiky.

Tristan was standing close enough to a Bob he could not see that they could almost blended into one. Bob didn't like this close contact with another man so he waved and before she could say, _don't you dare _he vanished.

Rory had a choice; she could either run around arms flaying in the air screaming, or she could control herself and focus on the current events. She chose Tristan because, well, she was curious, he hadn't actually changed all that much. He was taller and his build was obviously bigger then a teenagers, he still had the eyes, the jaw, and the smile.

It was safe to say, for a woman; he was like a lone piece of chocolate cake at a weight watchers meeting. Irresistible.

He swiveled around, model like and gave her a look. One that said, 'whatever planet you are on, leave now'.

"Hey."

"Hey. Want to tell me what that was about?"

She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself to be safe. He watched this and laughed. Amused? Freaked out? She couldn't work it out but she didn't care.

From what she remembered of this boy, he was frisky and that was not something she could handle at this particular moment. Dimension travel had its limits.

Rory smiled, well tried too. She desperately wanted a cigarette and was annoyed that her underwear had no pockets for such emergencies. "Oh nothing."

"Oh nothing? I have just had the weirdest night in the history of weird nights and I wake up to the weirdest morning in the history of weird mornings."

She looked around the room, not knowing what happened the night before, she couldn't really comment on that. "You're on a roll then, aren't you? Why stop now."

"I see your sense of humor hasn't improved."

Rory was known for her humor. Who did he think he was? "And you are the all knowing Yoda of humor?'

He grabbed her around her waist again, like it had been tattooed _Place hands here whenever possible_, he was smiling obviously liking her anger. She glared at him and he kissed her despite this.

"Mmm, you taste good."

"Well you don't."

"Nice," he pulled away and turned to the medicine cabinet, pulling out his toothpaste. "Be careful that ring is not on your finger yet." She was happy she had some influence.

The bathroom and everything about this place was amazing. It looked like it was taken out of a successful showroom and plonked down around her.

She was gutted but happy that the toilet would at least work. Unlike _one_ that she knew.

Rory looked down at her hands after his comment and sees an engagement ring. The size of a small planet; it sat on her finger contently. She fought the urge to run to the window to look at it under better lighting.

"Your mom called this morning. You were sleeping so I told her you'd give her a call back."

Rory stood looking at him. This was unreal. Everything. Here was a guy she had partial feelings for from high school sharing a bathroom, a bed, a future; and her mom was here.

She grabbed his arm.

"I need to see her."

Tristan looked confused. "Now?"

"Yeah now. I have to go."

"You can't go now Rory," Tristan followed her still sleepy so he shuffled, scratching the back of his head. He wasn't going to help her see her mom that was obvious so she knew she would have to do it by herself.

"Watch me," she mumbled to herself but Rory kind of think he heard her because he tried to grab her arm before she dashed out of the bedroom as fast as her incapable legs could carry her.

She managed to find her way out of the most complicated house she had ever stepped foot in and quickly found a key rack along with some coats hanging off a line of a hanger and she let out a massive and long sigh of relief.

Keys meant car. Coat meant not leaving the house half-naked with a towel wrapped around her body. The cigarette craving was getting worse.

Opening the front door she peered out like a kitten on its first outdoor journey. Scanning the area Rory could see the houses down the long street were all detached and very large. The lawns mirrored the next, all dark green, thick and carpet like.

Suburbia.

Before retching she noticed a couple of cars in their equally big driveway.

One was lovely. A 4x4, black alloy wheels and a sheen so glistening she fought the urge not to drool. That had to be her car.

She glanced at the other and cringed. That particular car belonged in a circus. Definitely not her car.

Rory skipped quickly over to the beautiful vehicle and tried her key in the driver's side, but it didn't work. It was the only key hanging on the key rack. She didn't want to consider the alternative. There was no way.

She tried the passenger side, hoping that it was just a tricky lock. Jiggling the key and trying to make it fit didn't seem to work.

Nothing worked.

Rory leaned her head up against the window and thumped the roof of the beautiful vehicle. This was not what she needed. This was not starting out well.

Turning she peered into the second story window of the big white house. If she could have picked out a house, it would have looked exactly like that.

Maybe she did.

On her perusal she noticed a dark figure in one of the second story windows and it waved at her. Then the blinds were pulled back and she could see his face. It was not a happy face. It was a very pissed off face.

Tristan.

He was not impressed; in fact he looked mean, even from what she could make out through the shadowy glass.

A finger was pointed to her and he made this 'come hither' motion with it. Like she was a child that was running too far ahead from her parents.

Rory thought that the relationship had to be bad if he had to do the 'come hither' finger so she snubbed him and that seemed to get him more irate, because he left the window and she could hear, or rather see the outline of him throwing on clothes.

It didn't take an Einstein to work out this was not a good sign.

Rory ran quickly to the circus car, barefoot, quickly deciding that this other alternative would have to do until she could ditch it for something more suitable, because even from outside she could hear his heavy footsteps running through the house.

Squealing she jumped into the driver's seat, the key fit perfectly luckily. Or unluckily if she were to think of her embarrassment.

Sticking the car in reverse she burned rubber.

Just before putting the car into first, Tristan came flying out the house, dressed terribly, locking the door like a good suburbanite and clicked the release lock on the nice black 4x4. Rory made sure more rubber got burned before taking off, hoping he would catch some fumes.

She sat at the wheel and mumbled to herself. Crappy car. Tristan chasing her like a fugitive. She had practically no clothes on. She had no idea where she was and she was dying for a ciggie.

Rear view mirror check. The 4x4 was following her and it was coming up fast. A shriek was heard and she realized it was from her own throat.

Rory couldn't stop the squeals coming out of her mouth and applied more pressure to her all ready lead foot driving and practically lifted the stupid car off it's front wheels.

The ridiculous oversized soda can stuck on the roof was what the problem was.

Whoever thinks that this type of advertising was effective was wrong, wrong, wrong. The only thing it was good for was pointing at it and laughing. Most definitely not increasing the cars center of gravity.

The car was at her tail now and she thumped the steering wheel. She hadn't worked out why she was running away from Tristan yet, but she knew him chasing her was scaring the shit out of her.

Within seconds he was driving next to her, passenger window wound down and he looked crazy.

She looked at the window operation button on her door and had to think about the pro and cons of this window winding down thing before she hit it.

"Are you crazy? Where the hell are you going?"

Trying the accelerator again, the car didn't move a single notch more. It was a useless car.

"I'm going for a drive. I'm going to see my mom," she said out of the window, sounding pitiful even to her own ears.

He looked at her like _she _was the crazy one in this car chasing scenario.

"That is not driving. Christ woman."

Rory wound up the window and gunned her engine.

Not being psychic but being human, she could feel his eyes on her, and when she pretended to look into the mirror she saw him make some comments, not hearing, one only had to imagine what those comments were from the frustration on his poor face.

The thing was she needed to see her mom, alone. Not with someone from high school she knew all those years ago. Okay maybe in this dimension they were together, but to her he was just the guy who used to date every girl he could, and picked on her when he had spare time. Well it was payback.

The lights changed to green and she was off again, the car had crap acceleration but her foot was pushed right down so it didn't have much of a choice. The black car was right beside her, while the vehicle was an immediate hit with her, now she was starting to loath it.

She hit some smaller roads in an attempt to lose him, but he was always right behind her weaving his way through the traffic she had cut off.

Tristan was starting to scare her. This thirty year old Tristan was worse then the sixteen year old Tristan. This one was bigger, had an obvious temper, had this need to keep her in his sight, plus he had a license to drive.

Looking up ahead she saw more lights and thumped the wheel again. This was not what she wanted to see. That meant more time for him and window winding.

Her little car came to a stop at the red light blaring angrily at her and she mumbled more when he pulled up behind her and stopped. Getting out of the car, running a hand through his unbrushed hair, he slammed the door and walked up to the window.

Menacing was the word that would sum up what he looked like. He was angry with her. That much was obvious.

"Open the window," he said through the glass, his eyes focused on her face and she fought the need to chew her lip; it would show weakness.

It was a shake of her head that made him go for the door handle, but she was smart enough to have locked it beforehand. It was habit. Living in a rough neighborhood meant locking your car or have your car stolen while you were sitting in the driver seat at a set of lights.

Bad habits die hard but it looked like they also kept respective partners away. So that was good.

"Is this about last night?"

Really, Rory could have cared less about last night even though she had no idea what happened 'last night', but he looked horrified with this notion and so the idea was too obvious not to take.

"Last night? Sure is buddy."

The lights were still red but she didn't wait. Screw the road code. Screw the law.

Tristan ate her dust.

A deep sigh was heard.

"Rory ya know it's an attitude like this that makes your life crap," Bob said appearing next to her. Finally, after abandoning her in her fifteen minutes of need.

"Do me a favor," she said taking a corner which made him hit his head against the glass.

"What?" He replied holding a hand to the side of his head.

"Shut up," then in an afterthought added. "And buckle your seatbelt."

She needed a cigarette.


End file.
